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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30006783">L'appel Du Vide</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourweather/pseuds/sourweather'>sourweather</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Denial, Dinner Parties, Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, M/M, Secret Relationship, Will Graham Has Encephalitis, takes place in late season 1, will wont use hannibals first name</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:08:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,413</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30006783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourweather/pseuds/sourweather</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>L'appel Du Vide. The Call of the Void. The counterintuitive urge to jump when standing on a cliffside</p><p>Will is hiding things from his coworkers. From himself. But Doctor Lecter knows.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>179</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>L'appel Du Vide</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is a DOOZY lol. it was inspired partially by my friend suggesting I write something with Bev, zeller, and price. It was also inspired by my realization that Will very rarely says hannibals first name, especially to his face. anyway idk I hope you like it lol</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Is that a bruise?" </p><p>Will doesn't realize the question is directed at him until he notices Price staring. </p><p>"You get hurt, Will? Where is it?" Beverly asks, stepping closer to Price to see his angle. </p><p>Price laughs. "It's a hickey!" </p><p>Will coughs, placing his hand over his neck self consciously. "It's nothing." </p><p>"Please, Graham. Our whole day is wounds. It's literally our job to know the difference," Zeller says, pointing at Will with a gloved finger. "And that right there is a textbook love bite." </p><p>"I said it's nothing." </p><p>"Sure, sure. You had an accident with the vacuum or something, right?" Price responds. </p><p>Will sighs, about to take his leave. Unlike these jokers, he actually has work to do. He passes Alana in the doorway, nods to her in greeting. He adjusts his collar, fighting embarrassment. </p><p>"Do anything fun this weekend, Doctor Bloom?" Zeller asks in lieu of a greeting. Price snorts. </p><p>"Not really," she says. "I made banana bread, does that count?" </p><p>"Sure you didn't see Will Graham?" </p><p>Alana frowns at the scientists. "No? Why, was I supposed to?" </p><p>Beverly shakes her head. "Don't worry about them, Alana, they're just-" </p><p>"Will's got a secret lady friend," Zeller interrupts with a smirk. </p><p>Alana falters. "Does he?" </p><p>"He hasn't mentioned anything to you?" Beverly asks. </p><p>Alana shakes her head. "First I'm hearing about it. Are you sure?" </p><p>"Unless you think one of his hounds bit his neck," Price says. </p><p>- </p><p>Hannibal smiles when he opens the door. "Doctor Bloom, always a pleasure." </p><p>"I hope I'm not intruding," She says, stepping through his threshold. She looks nervous, and it piques Hannibal's curiosity. </p><p>"I'm expecting company soon, but I can always spare some time for you." </p><p>She laughs, charmed. "I was hoping to pick your brain about something." </p><p>Hannibal leads her into his sitting room, preparing for an impromptu performance. "Pick away." </p><p>"It's about Will." </p><p>At that, Hannibal gestures to the chairs near his fireplace. "I might need to step away at some point, I'm actually in the middle of preparing dinner." </p><p>"Oh, well, I wouldn't want to-" </p><p>He holds up a hand, placating her. "The meat needs to rest before it's carved. Please, sit." </p><p>She obliges, clearing her throat awkwardly before she speaks. "Has Will talked to you about his love life at all?" </p><p>He has to bite back his grin. "You know that I can't share what I discuss with my patients." </p><p>"How fortunate, then, that Will isn't technically your patient." </p><p>Hannibal says nothing, just smiles at her. </p><p>"I overheard a rumor today that Will was...involved with someone. Sexually." </p><p>He quirks an eyebrow at her. "Feeling jealous, Doctor Bloom?" </p><p>"No, no," She says, perhaps a little too quickly. "I just- Will is my friend, I'd hate to see him get hurt." </p><p>"It's natural for us to feel protective of the people we care about." </p><p>Alana notices the way Hannibal indirectly answered her question. She looks him in the eye, searching for more truths of omission cloaked by pleasantries. "Is it...serious?" </p><p>Hannibal is silent for a moment, mulling it over. Or at least pretending to. "Questions like that are very subjective. From my perspective, for example, I would say that sex is not inherently serious. Intimacy, however? As serious as the grave, if not more so." </p><p>He holds her attention for a beat, then speaks again with a more conversational air. "But to be blunt, and I hope you'll forgive me for saying so- Will Graham possesses as much romantic efficacy as the lamb resting in my kitchen. He doesn't strike me as the type to knowingly fall in love with someone." </p><p>She narrows her eyes. "You know who she is, don't you?" </p><p>"Alana-" </p><p>The two are interrupted by a sudden knock at the door. Hannibal smiles. His guest is early. </p><p>"Ah, it seems you've spoken of the Devil, and he has seen it fit to appear." Hannibal stands, looking down at her. "I'm terribly sorry to send you away, Doctor Bloom, but I'm afraid I've only prepared enough lamb for two this evening."  </p><p>Hannibal savors the look on Will's face when he opens the door. </p><p>"Alana," He says, instinctively raising a hand to cover the angry mark on his neck. Not quick enough, Hannibal thinks. She certainly saw. "I wasn't expecting to see you here." </p><p>"I was just leaving," She says, forcing a smile. She turns to Hannibal, nodding. "Have a good evening, Hannibal." </p><p>He smiles back, shutting the door when Will steps inside. </p><p>"You've created quite the stir among your colleges, Will," He says, observing the bruise on Will's neck. "Perhaps you should've worn a scarf, taken a page from our friend Abigail Hobbs." </p><p>Will swallows, looking rather uncomfortable. "I didn't even think about it until someone brought it up. If I had I would've covered it." </p><p>He frowns as he sits at Hannibal's table. "Was that what Alana was here about, just now?" </p><p>Hannibal busies himself with setting out their wine glasses. "More or less," he says. </p><p>"Jesus." </p><p>Will puts his head in his hands, only lifting it when Hannibal approaches to fill his glass. Will holds up a hand. "Just water, thanks." </p><p>"It's an excellent pairing, Will. I assure you it will elevate the lamb." </p><p>"Wine impairs my ability to make decisions," Will replies, practically spitting the words at him. </p><p>Hannibal gives him a bemused look. "Are you anticipating a crisis this evening?" </p><p>"I'm trying to prevent a repeat of what happened last time." </p><p>Hannibal takes a slow breath, quietly digesting the other man's words. "Do you regret our last dinner, Will?" </p><p>Will lowers his head again, pinching his brow. "The other night was a mistake, Doctor Lecter." </p><p>Hannibal begins to carve the lamb. Even after a proper resting period, its blood leaks a bit onto the cutting board. "What makes you say that?" </p><p>Will shoots him an incredulous look, as if the answer should be obvious. "Well, it was wildly unprofessional, for starters." </p><p>"I am not your therapist, legally." </p><p>"And that technicality absolves you, from an ethical standpoint?" </p><p>Hannibal doesn't respond, doesn't care to. He has no interest in ethics. His only interest is getting Will back into his bed. </p><p>"It was irresponsible, at least," Will continues. "An immense overstepping of boundaries-" </p><p>"And which one of us overstepped, Will? You? If I recall correctly I welcomed you into my bed with open arms." </p><p>"More accurate to say you dragged me into it." </p><p>Hannibal drizzles the rich sauce with a practiced flourish. Will was being difficult, as usual. "You're claiming that I took advantage of you, then? I assure you I would've stopped the moment you asked me to. In fact, it was you who instigated things in the first place." </p><p>Will sighs sharply. Hannibal knows he's about to accept defeat, feels the anticipation hitting the air. </p><p>"I didn't...want you to stop, Doctor Lecter." </p><p>"Then I must say I don't understand your reluctance. I'm not ashamed to admit I enjoyed our last encounter. Are you?" </p><p>Will looks up at him as he sets the plate before him. Hannibal holds his eyes- blue, so very blue- for a few moments of charged silence. </p><p>"Try the wine, Will." </p><p>- </p><p>Will tugs at his turtleneck, certain that his discomfort is visible. He stands near the corner of the lab, listening to Price and Zeller describe their findings on the victim. Well, half-listening, at least. The other half has drifted away to other things.  He can't stop his mind from doing what it pleases, lately. </p><p> At its fevered mercy, he sees Cassie Boyle, Marissa Schurr, their hands reaching out to him. Will reaches back and realizes that his hands are covered in blood. He looks down at them, glistening even in the limited light of Garrett Jacob Hobbs' antler room. He feels lips at the back of his neck, their gentle touch carrying with them the weight of countless wretched sins. Doctor Lecter's arm curls around him, running his fingers down along Will's chest. In their wake, his flesh parts like a zipper, heart and lungs vulnerable and exposed. Will gasps at the sensation of cold air hitting his organs. </p><p>"Hey Price, check out the placing on this one," Zeller says with a chuckle. </p><p>Will jumps, trying to fight the instinct to pant. He's still in the lab, but it's emptier now than it was before. Had he zoned out for the whole briefing? </p><p>Price joins Zeller in staring at the side of Will's head. "Huh. She got you good, Will. Right where we could see it." </p><p>Will frowns at them as Price reaches out with a pencil, indicating a spot right below Will's ear with the eraser end. "Too high to be hidden by a collar, the turtleneck is a good look for you, though. Mostly disguised by your jaw, at least from the front. You didn't even notice it when you looked in the mirror this morning, did you?" </p><p>Zeller casts Price a quizzical glance. "You saying there's intentionality here?" </p><p>"Definitely looks premeditated to me." He catches Will's eye, smirking a little. "Suspect is highly possessive, likes to show off her work." </p><p>"Making her victims into a display." </p><p>"Leave me alone and do your God damn jobs," Will says. He's surprised by how rough and dark the words sound on the air, like a threat. He's gripping the counter so hard it almost hurts. He's not the only one who's surprised, either. </p><p>When he leaves, he hears footsteps following him. He turns in the hall, feeling the urge to lash out at them again. It's Beverly. She'd been so silent back in the lab, Will had hardly noticed she was there. </p><p>"Hey," she says. "I'm sorry about that. I'll talk to them, okay? Tell them to lay off." </p><p>"It's none of their business what I do in my free time," Will says, trying hard to keep his tone level. </p><p>"I mean, can you really blame them for being curious? This is the first time they've had reason to think you actually have a social life. From the way you act, a lot of people wouldn't be surprised if you just went home and stared at a wall between cases." She smiles easily at him, adding warmth to her teasing. </p><p>Will tries to force a smile in return. He worries it looks more like bearing his teeth. "I'm human, Beverly. Flesh and bone, like everyone else." </p><p>"I know that, but sometimes it's good to have a reminder. It's not a fireable offense to talk about things other than work with your coworkers, you know." </p><p>"Yeah, well maybe it should be," He says, and she laughs. </p><p>"If it bothers you that much, I'll tell them not to gossip. Not when you're in earshot, at least." </p><p>Will nods slightly. "They'll have to find something new to gossip about, anyway. I'm breaking things off tonight. This..." The word 'relationship' dies on his tongue. What word is better, then? An affair? An entanglement? </p><p>"This thing," whatever it is. "Is over. It won't happen again." </p><p>- </p><p>Will sighs, leaning into the lips making a line along his jugular. Could Doctor Lecter feel his pulse, racing under his skin? It feels impossible not to, the beat of their hearts were reverberating from every surface in a haunting concerto, filling Will's ears with their reverent refrains. </p><p>"Don't bite me," he hisses. "At least not where anyone will see it." </p><p>Doctor Lecter lets out a breathy laugh against his skin. Such a rare sound. Will tries to ignore how it tugs at him, his heart secured to a leash in the other man's grasp. </p><p>"Still getting unwanted attention from your colleges, Will?" He asks, moving downward to mouth at Will's chest. </p><p>"You know that I am," Will bites. "You want it that way." </p><p>Doctor Lecter moves back up, catches Will in a hungry kiss. Will wants to pull away, to turn his head and deny him. He doesn't. </p><p>"I cannot hide my guilt. I enjoy their curiosity." Doctor Lecter kisses Will beneath his ear, where his evidence stills lies. He inhales deeply, and Will feels a sick excitement, knowing that the other man is drinking in his scent. "It's thrilling, seeing them wonder at the identity of Will Graham's enigmatic lover." </p><p>At this, Will's mind finally wins over his body, and he fights to pull away. Doctor Lecter allows it, true to his word, and Will finds enough space to breathe. </p><p>Will stares up at him, holding his dark eyes. "You aren't my lover," He whispers. </p><p>His eyes sweep down Will's body, taking him in. The corner of his mouth quirks upward. "And what am I, then?" </p><p>Will is quiet for the space of a few breaths, searching for the words. Eventually, he speaks. "I'm not doing this again." </p><p>Doctor Lecter is still smiling, as if he didn't hear. </p><p>"I'm serious. I'm done. I-" He chokes. He'd been planning on saying 'I don't want you' but the words evaporate, paper sentiments melting upon touching the sea. Instead, he reiterates, doubling down on the words he can say. "I'm done." </p><p>Doctor Lecter leans close, still smirking, like it's amusing. Like it's all a game. Like he's winning. "Well," he breathes, leaning down to hover above Will's lips. "Then I shall make tonight memorable." He draws nearer, practically speaking against Will's skin. </p><p>"Rich enough to savor." </p><p>- </p><p>The next few weeks pass blissfully uneventful for Will. His work is efficient, task-driven. He is still plagued by nightmares, but he sleeps a little more, feels a little more in control. </p><p>He and Beverly are alone in the lab tonight. Will isn't sure what she'd said to Zeller and Price, but she'd kept her promise. When they were around, it was all business. </p><p>"Any plans coming up?" He asks, making a tense attempt at familiarity. </p><p>She doesn't look up from her file, but he sees her smile at the pages. "Going to a bar with some friends tomorrow night, actually. Trivia Night." </p><p>Will nods. He thinks of what she'd said to him before. Perhaps it would do him good to, at least temporarily, speak of something personal. He feels distant from reality, his hallucinations and lost time detaching him from his own humanity with clinical coldness. </p><p>Try to be flesh and bone, Will. </p><p>"I envy you," he says. "Sounds much better than what I'll be doing tomorrow night." </p><p>She looks up from her file. The two of them are friendly, Will prefers her company to many others. But even so, this offering is uncommon. "And what's that?" </p><p>"Going to a dinner party, with Doctor Lecter." He's playing casual, but he feels strangely excited about the prospect of this. Confession is often refreshing, he supposes. </p><p>"I didn't know Hannibal was throwing another party," She says. </p><p>"He's not. It's a, uh, friend of his. Just appearing as guests." </p><p>"I'm sure he'll have a lot to say." </p><p>"He's counting on it," Will replies. He feels himself smile at the thought. "Said he's mainly going so he can 'compare'." </p><p>"An evening of eating fine food and judging people with Hannibal Lecter. Doesn't necessarily sound like your scene." </p><p>"It's not my scene," He says. "To be honest, I'm dreading it." </p><p>"Then why go? I'm sure Hannibal could find another plus-one, if you declined." </p><p>"Because I won't be attending as his plus-one," He mumbles. His words come slow, begrudging, like he's desperately delaying their arrival for a few more moments. "I'm going as his date." </p><p>Beverly tries to mask her surprise. The mask is woefully transparent. "Is that a recent development?" She asks cautiously. </p><p>"Being with him, or being seen with him?" He responds, teeth gritted. </p><p>"Both, I guess." </p><p>He sighs. "It will be our first public appearance," He says. "But we're beyond what one would call a 'trial period'." </p><p>Beverly's eyes flick down to his neck, to the mingling of old and fresh bruises he's given up on hiding. A signal of his surrender. "Shit. I owe Zeller so much money." </p><p>Will chuckles despite himself. </p><p>Beverly looks him in the face, searching. There's a distinct fondness in her voice when she speaks. "You know what you're getting yourself into, Will?" </p><p>The question catches him off guard. With a chill, he feels a presence in the room. He looks over his shoulder and sees the Stag, slowly approaching. Its hooves on the tile floor are deafening. He feels the sticky moisture of blood on his palms. </p><p>"I have a creeping feeling that I know exactly what I'm getting into." </p><p>He turns back to Beverly, runs a hand along his face. It's dry. "I keep trying to remind myself of objections, reasons that this is a bad idea, destined to go up in flames. But when he's in the room with me..." He trails off, can feel the phantom touch of Doctor Lecter's skin along his chest, opening him up. </p><p>Beverly shakes her head. "You've been single for a long time, haven't you?" Her tone maintains its conversational air, not thrown by Will's sudden intensity. </p><p>He feels the tension partially dissipate, though the chill on the back of his neck remains. "Is it that obvious?" </p><p>"I've had friends in your position before." </p><p>Will somehow doubts that but lets her continue. </p><p>"You invent excuses. His clothes, his habits, the way he talks- you go down a list of everything that could be wrong with him. And if you don't find anything, you go through again with a fine-toothed comb. Because you want to find a problem." </p><p>Will shakes his head slightly. The problems aren't invented. Doctor Lecter is manipulating him, constantly. He's dangerous. He doesn't have proof, but he can't shake the feeling. There's violence in Doctor Lecter, lurking in his periphery, like it wants to be spotted but not fully seen. Will wants to run, to fight. He does. He's furious with himself for every moment he spends with that man. </p><p>The feeling ghosts its way across his spine again, his puppeteer's phantom influence. He feels his heart catch when it fades, like it's longing. </p><p>"But the only problem is that you're scared, and part of you knows that. So you pick one. Even if it's small, even if it's random. And you fixate on it whenever you feel yourself getting too close. It's a really common coping mechanism, actually." </p><p>She takes his hand, squeezes it. Will lets her. </p><p>"It's okay to be scared, Will." </p><p>"Why do I feel like you're projecting?" He asks, voice distant. </p><p>"I said it's common, didn't I? Hannibal intimidates you because you're afraid of what will happen if you let yourself be vulnerable. You're scared you'll get attached, and he'll hurt you." </p><p>Will pulls his hand away. She lets him. "I am definitely intimidated by Doctor Lecter, Beverly, but for very different reasons." </p><p>She turns back to her files, not pushing the subject. It's something Will appreciates about her company. She can tell when he's in a dark place, tries not to incur his anger. </p><p>"You won't even call him by his first name, Will," She says. A final blow. </p><p>He doesn't respond, what could he say? </p><p>- </p><p>Will lies against a tree, its thick blanket of leaves protecting him from the rain beyond. The drops on the forest floor sound like whispers. The words are disfigured, but the voice is familiar. Almost as familiar as his own. </p><p>He can feel the blood trickling down his chest, his arms. His wounds are many. Ten of them, like Garret Jacob Hobbs. His blood pools around him. He closes his eyes. </p><p>"It's night. I think," He says, voice echoing and mingling with the voice of the storm. They harmonize beautifully. "I'm in the woods somewhere. My name is Will Graham." Eyes still shut, he traces the shape of a clock into the mud. </p><p>He opens them when he hears the leaves rustle. It's the stag, like an old friend to him now, standing in the rain. It's thirsty. Walking slowly forward, it foregoes the rainwater all around it and lowers its head beside Will, lips to the puddle of his blood. </p><p>"Hannibal Lecter, as I live and breathe," the hostess says, holding out her hand delicately. Doctor Lecter presses his lips to it, ever the gentleman. </p><p>"It's good to see you again, Valerie." </p><p>"I wasn't sure you'd make an appearance, considering your early departure last time." </p><p>"Terribly rude of me," He says, gesturing to Will. "I can only hope you'll find my offering of new blood an acceptable apology." </p><p>"Fresh meat for the table," She says with a red-painted smile. Will feels a wave of anxiety. "A nice face to decorate the room, too." </p><p>Will tries to gain some agency, holds out his hand. She takes it and he shakes it firmly. "Will Graham." </p><p>"Will," She says, looking him up and down. Will feels uncomfortable, somehow underdressed despite his suit, but he trusts that Doctor Lecter wouldn't have let him be seen in anything that didn't flatter him. "How on Earth did Hannibal find you?" </p><p>Doctor Lecter speaks for him, and Will tries not to make it obvious how he bristles. "Will is a criminal profiler for the FBI," he says, not actually explaining how that led to their meeting. </p><p>"Looks and brains, then?" She meets Will's eye, at last fully acknowledging him. "But are you much for conversation?" </p><p>"Doctor Lecter is usually able to keep up with me, but only usually. Do with that what you will," He says, casting his companion a sidelong glance. He looks smug. Will hates it. </p><p>Valerie looks at him as she might look at a dog upon hearing it speak English. "Well," She breathes. "You've outdone yourself, Hannibal. He's a fine apology. Enjoy your evening, Will. Do come find me if the good doctor starts to bore you." </p><p>Will smiles through a few more introductions, laden with tense small talk. All the while he tries to fight the feeling that he was being sized up like Doctor Lecter's purebred lapdog. Best in Show, he thinks bitterly. </p><p>At dinner, he's the center of quite a bit of attention. He's asked to share stories about his work, mainly. The human mind is partial to morbid curiosity, and he obliges just enough to please while still maintaining an air of tasteful mystery. It's easy, after a while, to mimic their vernacular, to blend in with them. To be honest, they bore him a little. He doesn't even need to look at Doctor Lecter to know he's enjoying this. </p><p>Will would be lying if he said he isn't finding some satisfaction in it as well. The longer he holds the spotlight, the more he can see changes in the partygoers' attitudes. At first, he was getting countless glances, could feel the gossip in the air. A new boy toy in their midst, so endearingly out of place as his companion led him by the arm. Now that he's had a chance to find his footing, they've begun to ignore his date altogether, more interested in Will's mind. </p><p>It's thrilling. They marvel at Doctor Lecter's enigmatic lover, and Will smiles at his victory. </p><p>After the meal, they both circulate through the crowd, making conversation, parting and reuniting like strands of DNA. </p><p>A tall gentleman who's been eyeing Will all evening makes an approach when Will is alone. He suspects it isn't by chance. </p><p>"Enjoying the party, Mr. Graham?" </p><p>"It isn't something I'll make a habit of, but I'm finding it might suit me, on occasion," Will replies, no longer struggling to match the once foreign language of the guests. </p><p>"I hope it becomes more than occasional," The man says, glancing around the crowd. "You've made quite the impression." </p><p>"My profession intrigues people, that's all," He replies, feigning humility. </p><p>"And then some. Everyone is taken with you, William Graham. I daresay you could go home with anyone here. Or not leave at all, if the hostess catches your fancy." </p><p>Will smiles. Doctor Lecter is in his orbit. He's not yet close enough to be counted as part of the conversation, but Will feels certain that he's listening. He adds a new bullet to his chamber. </p><p>"I came here with Doctor Lecter. And while I appreciate the compliment, I'm afraid I've already made the choice to leave my coat in his car." </p><p>"How lucky for Doctor Lecter," He says with a tight smile. He holds out a hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you, William." </p><p>"It's just Will," he clarifies, shaking his hand with an unnecessary level of strength. </p><p>"Of course it is." </p><p>As the man leaves, Will looks over to his date. Doctor Lecter is smiling wickedly above the rim of his wine glass. He takes a long drink, holding Will's eye. Will approaches. </p><p>"Sebastion is a very rude man," Doctor Lecter says. "I try to avoid him when I can." </p><p>Doctor Lecter's nauseating pride is so thick that Will can scarcely breathe. "Enjoying yourself, Doctor?" He asks with a slight sneer. </p><p>"I always enjoy Valerie's parties, she's a dear friend." He lifts his glass again, casting a mirthful eye at Will. "But I'm enjoying this one more than others." </p><p>Will shakes his head, wishing he wasn't smiling. "You knew exactly what you were doing when you invited me here, didn't you?" </p><p>"I hope you aren't implying I brought you under false pretenses, Will. I told you I was mainly attending to compare." </p><p>"Just not the meal," Will finishes. </p><p>"I find you fascinating," He says, a matter of fact. "I knew that they would as well. Is it so egregious an act that I should want to show you off?" </p><p>"Putting your victims on display," Will says. </p><p>"And keeping them as trophies," He replies, placing a possessive hand on the small of Will's back. "I am truly a typical murderer." </p><p>"No violence required," He muses. </p><p>"Not yet." </p><p>- </p><p>Will grips the edges of the table. A bead of sweat travels down the spine. He shivers. He feels sick, like his body is trying to reject something. His vision clouds, he feels like he's falling. </p><p>He closes his eyes tightly. Grits his teeth. Tries to quiet his mind. </p><p>"It's 10:53 AM. I'm in Baltimore, Maryland. My name is Will Graham." He swallows, takes a shuddering breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. 'It's 10:53 AM. I'm in Baltimore, Maryland. My name is Will Graham."  He forces himself to ease the grip on the table. Tries to fight the vertigo taking him over. He repeats the statement a third time under his breath. He hears the click of a heel in the room. </p><p>"It's 10:53 AM," The voice says. Will doesn't open his eyes. Doesn't need to. "I'm in Baltimore, Maryland. My name is Alana Bloom." </p><p>Will lowers his head. He's still shaking, but he can feel the ground under his feet again. </p><p>"It's a mantra Doctor Lecter has me say," He explains softly. "Keeps me grounded." </p><p>"How are things with Hannibal?" She asks. </p><p>He opens his eyes. Alana is standing beside him, holding a cup of coffee with both hands. The action looks comfortable, nurturing. He tries to even out his breaths. </p><p>"He's helping me manage my stress, but I think we both know it's barely keeping me together." </p><p>"I wasn't talking about your therapy." </p><p>"I wasn't either." </p><p>Alana looks down at the coffee, as if speaking to her reflection. "Why didn't you tell me?" </p><p>"I didn't tell anyone." </p><p>"Beverly knows," She says. </p><p>"Beverly told you?" </p><p>"Hannibal told me," she corrects. "He said that since you were regularly going out as a couple with his friends, he assumed your relationship was public knowledge." </p><p>Will laughs bitterly. "He didn't think that, Alana. He lied to you." </p><p>"So did you." </p><p>Alana is frowning, still refusing to look at him. He's relieved. </p><p>"I didn't want to tell you." </p><p>"Because you kissed me?" </p><p>"No." </p><p>She finally looks him in the face and he wants to shrink under her gaze. "I don't care about that, Will. I don't. If you're happy, then I'm happy for you. And I want to be happy for you and Hannibal, but you're miserable." </p><p>"Beverly thinks I'm intimidated by the idea of being vulnerable with him. That I'm scared by the possibility of being...in love with Doctor Lecter." </p><p>"Hannibal," she whispers. </p><p>"What?" </p><p>"Call him by his first name, I can't stand this formality." </p><p>Will raises a hand, placing his palm over the marks on his neck. His display, His trophy. </p><p>"Say it." </p><p>He doesn't. </p><p>She sighs. She sounds disappointed, irritated. "What are you doing, Will?" </p><p>Will looks at the ceiling. Past it. "Doctor Lecter is...the edge of a cliffside," He says at last. "No matter how high it is, how dark the water is below, how much my head is screaming about the danger, there's... something inside of me. It makes me want to jump." </p><p>"You think Hannibal's going to kill you?" </p><p>"I think that if the fall doesn't kill me, the ocean will." </p><p>Alana opens her mouth to speak, but all Will can hear is the crashing of waves. </p><p>When he wakes up, he's standing in Doctor Lecter's living room. He's panting, heart pounding with fear. He looks down at his hands. The nails are a little dirty, but he can't remember if they were like that before. There's no blood on them. It's cold comfort. </p><p>"Will," He hears behind him. The voice is the sea hitting a cliff, meeting in a passionate embrace that takes a little of the rock with it. </p><p>"Will," He calls again. The voice is a rushing river, pulling everything away, eroding him with its merciless current. In its wake, the stone is smooth, permanently altered. </p><p>"Will." He feels a hand on his shoulder. The voice is rain washing over his body, surrounding him with sound and feeling. The sensation holds him fast to the earth, makes him want to look to the heavens, lips parted, and drink it in. </p><p>"Hannibal," He breathes, voice dry and ragged. Christ, he's thirsty. </p><p>"Look at me," Hannibal says, gently pressing on his shoulder, coaxing him to turn. </p><p>"I-I can't," he whispers. </p><p>"Listen, then." </p><p>Hannibal smooths his hands along Will's back. Gently, he lifts Will's wrist. Hannibal's skin is cool against his own, it makes Will realize that he's burning all over. </p><p>"It's 6:41 PM," He says, directing Will's attention to his watch. The glass is cracked. When did that happen? </p><p>"It's-" He swallows, still gasping for air. "It's 6:41 PM." </p><p>"Good." </p><p>"I'm, uh- shit- I'm in Baltimore, Maryland." </p><p>"Who are you?" Hannibal asks, placing a kiss on the back of Will's neck. </p><p>"I don't know." </p><p>"You do." </p><p>"Hannibal," He sobs. He doesn't know how he got here. He doesn't know who's looking for him. He's scared, terrified, he can't even swim. But all that's left is the cliff, there's nothing else. Just himself, the cliff, and the sea. </p><p>"I know what you are, Will. So do you. Show me." </p><p>Will turns to face him. Hannibal looks different. Somehow both softer and harder. Kinder and fiercer. More and less gruesome. Will's mind and heart are no longer at war, they are dancing. Instead of averaging the data, making a generic copy of the man before him, Will is at last able to see Hannibal in all his contradicting extremes. </p><p>If he dashes himself against the rocks, the sea will lick at his wounds, excruciating and loving. If he drowns, the sea will fill his lungs, become a part of him, and let him sink into its depths. If he survives, the sea will carry him to shore, and he will rise and dive in again. </p><p>There is nothing left but to fall. </p><p>He kisses Hannibal, desperate. Will clutches at him, pleading to be caught by the current. The current obliges. </p><p>"Hannibal," he says, reverent. Like it's the only word he knows. For now, it is. </p><p>Hannibal looks at him, and for once Will doesn't have to wonder at what he sees. He sees Will, laid at his altar, a gift for the taking. A dark, dynamic thing that wishes only to sustain itself with Hannibal's life-giving waters. He sees himself reflecting in Hannibal's eyes and feels divine. </p><p>"You are truly magnificent, Will Graham," Hannibal says, giving voice to Will's thoughts. </p><p>"I think I'm falling in love with you," He says. He feels his chest, opened like a zipper, exposed to the air. Vulnerable before him. </p><p>Hannibal smiles. It's terrible. Will wants to see it forever. He kisses Will again. Will keeps his eyes open. So does Hannibal. </p><p>"Then let us fall together."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you enjoyed this fic, consider tossing a couple bucks into my Tip Jar!- Ko-fi.com/sourweather</p></blockquote></div></div>
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